


The Best I Could Hope For

by the_brightest_light



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 22:49:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2828843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_brightest_light/pseuds/the_brightest_light
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“No.”</p><p>“But Stiles-“</p><p>“Scott buddy, you’ve had some really stupid plans in the past but this just takes the cake.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this was meant to be one-shot for the Steter secret santa but it's turned into a multi-chapter nightmare. Rating is for later chapters, any warnings I'll include in the end notes.
> 
> Don't have a beta so any mistakes are my own fault.
> 
> This is post-3A except Derek and Cora never left.
> 
> Also I don't know how to show that this is multi-chapter but it is.
> 
> Tell me what you think!

 “No.”

“But Stiles-“

“Scott buddy, you’ve had some really stupid plans in the past but this just takes the cake.”

“It’s not actually that bad…”

Stiles glared at Lydia, who just raised an eyebrow and sighed in a way that was eerily similar to the Sheriff after Stiles had to explain to him, yet again, that yes his cell phone was broken and Roscoe might need some little, _eeny-weeny_ repairs but it’s not his fault- after all, if the price of saving his dad was turning Beacon Hills into a hellhole â la Buffy then it was a price he was willing to pay.

But this, this was where Stiles drew the line.

“Are you serious Lyds?! This is Peter, you know the same guy who terrorised us when he was Alpha and messed with you head-“

“What Peter did to come back to life is between me and him. Besides its old news, what he have now is a succubi who’s targeting couples, and you and Peter are the perfect bait.”

“Ok so this demon is targeting gay couples, where one of the guys is a lot older…so why can’t Isaac or Scott go with Peter? At least they’ll be able to defend themselves!”

“As I’ve told you before Stiles, I’m not as the old as you think I am.”

Speak of the devil…Peter climbed down the loft stairs wearing one of those ridiculously low V-necks and a smirk that made Stiles want to punch him.

“Various sources state that succubi have can detect other supernatural creatures. One werewolf in a couple is…fairly common in this town,” Peter made a point to sweep his gaze over Aiden, Lydia, Allison and Isaac, “but two werewolves…that would reek of a trap.”

“Look Stiles, I know it’s not ideal but I wouldn’t ask you if I wasn’t desperate. After the last one…”

Scott didn’t have to say anymore. Stiles knew that finding what was left of the succubi’s last victim had been tough on Scott. He’d been there when the victim’s mother had arrived and she hadn’t taken her son’s death well. Ms. Webb had been near hysterical and refused to let anyone except Scott near her. Stiles hadn’t been there, but he could tell it was bad when his dad came home and didn’t even bother to remove his jacket before heading straight to the liquor cabinet. The Sheriff didn’t sleep in his bed that night.

“Fine, fine! But I’m not happy about it.”

********************************************************************************

Stiles walked slowly up the stairs. After a day that started with him being 40 minutes late to school and ended with a detention with Finstock, all Stiles wanted to do was imitate a slug on his bed whilst watching Office re-runs on Netflix.

Instead he came home to his favourite zombie rummaging through his closet. Stiles threw his rucksack on the floor, before falling onto his bed.

“So are you adding breaking and entering, and petty theft to your résumé creeper wolf?” Stiles mumbled. Usually he would be nervous about lying on his bed with Peter in the room, but he was too tired to care. Besides, Scott would be here in an hour so he didn’t think Peter would try and murder him. Probably.

“If I ever steal any of your clothes to wear then you know that, that isn’t in fact me but some kind of skin walker and you can kill it with confidence.”

“Is there a reason you’re here, you know apart from insulting my wardrobe?”

Peter straightened up and turned to face him, and Stiles definitely did not avert his eyes from where they were appreciating Peter’s ass. Nope, no siree.

“All the victims had been sighted at rather high-end restaurants before being taken by the succubi. And to enter such establishments, you need to adhere to a certain dress code. I had hoped you might have something suitable to wear, alas…”

“Well call Scott or someone and sort it out, I’m gonna take a shower.”

When Stiles came back into his room, he found Peter dressed in a shirt and sinfully tight trousers. A similar outfit was laid on his bed. Stiles opened his mouth only for Peter to interrupt him.

“Luckily for you, I came prepared. Oh don’t worry, they should fit. I have a good eye for size.”

As Peter spoke, his eyes wandered slowly over Stiles’ body. It was only after Peter’s gaze stopped on Stiles’ face, that the he realised he was only wearing a towel.

“Get out! I need to get changed.”

“I’m not stopping you”, Peter drawled as he sat down in Stiles’ desk chair.

Stiles quickly grabbed the clothes, as he tried to stop the blood rushing to his face.

“Such a creep”, Stiles muttered under his breath as he made his way back to the bathroom, fully aware that Peter could hear him.

“Is it a crime that I want to appreciate how, despite all those layers you hide under, you have a rather attractive body?”

Stiles slammed the bathroom door shut.

*********************************************************************************

“So…how about them Mets?”

Peter ignored him as he continued to read the menu. Stiles sighed as he kept his hands occupied with the cloth napkin. Places like this made him nervous, okay? He knew it was only a matter of time before he broke something that was made out crystal, and handmade by blind Tibetan orphans that cost more than what his dad earned in a year.

“You know,” Peter said without taking his eyes of the menu, “I do rather enjoy our conversations. But I refuse to discuss something as dull as baseball.”

“I’m sorry, sports not a topic worth spending your precious time discussing?”

“I actually prefer basketball but I’d rather discuss your theories on why the succubi is targeting couples.”

“What makes you think I have any theories?”

Peter put his menu down, and gave a look that told Stiles he didn’t believe him.

“What’s the point, you’ve probably already thought of them.”

Peter didn’t reply straight away. Instead he gave his order to the waiter that had appeared out of nowhere.

“I took the liberty of ordering for the both of us. And you really need to stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“You need to stop constantly undermining yourself. I want to discuss your ideas because they’re often provide valuable insight.”

Stiles spent a few minutes looking around the restaurant before replying.

“Look all I do is use Google, why don’t you discuss your theories with Lydi-“

“You may not be a genius like Lydia, but you have a…unique way of approaching problems that can’t be learnt from books. Those _children_ that call themselves a pack may not appreciate you but I won’t make the mistake of underestimating you. Why do you think I didn’t turn you?”

“Uh because I said no?”

Peter let out a small huff air.

“I only asked for permission and didn’t force the Bite on you because, as mad as I was, I could tell that if I did you’d gain my trust, be a loyal Beta and then kill me when I was least expecting it.”

Stiles stayed silent. There was no point in telling Peter that he was wrong.

After all, he’d know Stiles was lying.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sheriff finds out....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I'm sorry it's been ages but I had universoty exams, coursework deadlines and for some reason my uni placed me in another city for a placement?! So I had to go away for a few days BUT I'm back now and updates should be roughly once a week. Enjoy!
> 
> PS I typed this in a rush so tell me if I've made any mistakes. Comment and kudos are love.
> 
> See the end notes for warnings

Stiles winced internally as his phone vibrated in his pocket again, indicating that it had received another text. Usually it wouldn’t be a problem, after all the whole point of having a silent feature on your cell phone was so no one else would know if you were receiving any texts. Unfortunately, it had been a long day for the Stilinski men and they were eating their dinner in near silence.

A silence that was interrupted every five minutes or so by, you guessed it, Stiles’ cell. John sighed before putting his knife and fork down, and pushing his chair backwards slightly. Stiles looked up briefly before pretending to be extremely interested in the peas on his plate. His dad had that look on his face that meant he was giving Stiles the opportunity to tell him what was wrong before the inevitable interrogation.

Stiles finished the rest of his dinner as fast as humanly possible and was about to get up when his father spoke.

“Son, don’t even try and run upstairs to your room.”

“Homework waits for no man, daddio”

The Sheriff just gave Stiles a look that said ‘cut the bullshit’.

“Da-dad! I’ll have you know that running around with werewolves _seriously_ cuts into my homework time. I’d thought you’d be proud by the fact that I managed to maintain my GPA and keep up with lacrosse when there was crazy hunters, stalkers and a kanima on the loose. I mean, I’ll be off to college soon and you should really appreciate the fact that I’m putting school first! Any other parent-“

John interrupted his son, and spoke in a ton of voice that told Stiles he had disappointed his only living parent yet again.

“Any parent, myself included, would be worried about the fact that their son literally ran into a hanging body during cross country today but hasn’t mentioned it at all. Add to that the fact that a psychotic werewolf has been messaging them every five minutes or so and-“

“How’d you know it was Peter messaging me?”

The Sheriff sighed. Of course his son would only focus on that part of the conversation.

“I have my sources. Stiles…I’m not angry or disappointed at all. I thought that after I found out about werewolves the lying would stop. I just wish you’d talk to me son…”

Stiles spent a few minutes in quiet contemplation. Telling his dad about what had happened today would mean telling him about the succubi and the plan with Peter. He knew his dad wouldn’t approve of the idea of him basically being bait but…he was just so _tired_.

The body that had been found today had been written off as suicide but Derek and Peter had verified Stiles’ suspicions- the body had been one of the succubi’s victims. According to Derek, the whole clearing had stunk of the creature. It was the first time Stiles had seen one of its victims and it…it was really freaking him out.

Clarence Hewitt. He’d only started college a few months ago, and had been living with his long-term boyfriend that is parents hadn’t known about. Standing there whilst his mom sobbed and his father tried to hide his tears made Stiles realise that it could be _him_. His dad could receive a phone call one day at work and be told _I’m sorry, but your son…_ His mother’s death had almost killed the Sheriff, and Stiles couldn’t leave his father as well.

“Well the body that I found? Yeah, it wasn’t suicide. See there’s this thing called a succubi and it’s been…”

**********************************************************************************

After what felt like hours, but was only 40 minutes, Stiles managed to drag himself upstairs. It was a testament to how tired he was that he only glanced over at Peter lounging in his computer chair before falling face first into bed.

“Hmmm, you’ve been with me since I was seven years old. Will you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?”

“I’m not sure any country in the world would let you marry an inanimate object Stiles”

Stiles just rolled over to face Peter, realising that he shouldn’t turn his back on the zombiewolf.

“You just don’t understand our love”

He closed his eyes. His dad was downstairs and if Peter really wanted to kill him, he wouldn’t do it now where there was a witness. Besides, he hadn’t really done anything…untoward during their ‘dates’. Except maybe stare at Stiles for a little longer than what was considered socially acceptable. But the man had been in a coma for 10 years so his social skills were bound to be rusty. Living with Derek probably didn’t help, the man would communicate solely with his eyebrows if he could. Huh. Stiles bet there had been more than one ‘conversation’ that consisted of Derek glaring and Peter giving his best bitch face.

“…and I understand if you want to stop.”

“Whazzat?”

Peter gave him a sigh before gritting his teeth and speaking.

“I was texting you today for a reason. I can understand that finding that body today would have upset your human sensibilities. If you want to stop acting as bait for the succubi then it’s perfectly understandable-“

Stiles sat up and addressed Peter in a hollow voice.

“Because I’m a weak, little human who won’t be able to protect myself right?”

“Of course you won’t. And if the succubi captures me then I’ll undoubtedly put up a better fight than you, but in the end all it has to do is use its voice and I’ll be as helpless as you. And if that happens to me, or to you, the others will save us. Though I imagine they’ll put in considerably more effort if it’s you who’s captured,” Peter mused.

“There’s nothing shameful about not wanting to die. But this ridiculous inferiority complex has to stop before you end up endangering yourself by trying to prove yourself-“

“Ok! Ok, I get it. No putting myself in unnecessary danger. Besides dad said we can carry on…he wasn’t exactly happy with our plan but he said that he’ll make sure that at least 2 patrols are near us when we’re on our ‘dates’.”

Silence fell over the room and Peter rose to leave before Stiles gave a cry.

“Wait! Does that…oh man, you’ll actually _miss_ me if I die!”

“You clearly don’t understa-“

“Oh whatever, you can’t hide the truth from me-“

Stiles spent the next few minutes listing all the reasons why Peter would miss him and why he’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to the creeper.

“Are you finished?”

Stiles gave a satisfied nod as he lay down, ready to sleep for the next 12 hours.  Peter was still standing by his desk with an impatient look on his face. A few months ago, it would’ve scared Stiles but he knew better now. He’d learnt that the former Alpha wasn’t exactly untrustworthy, he was just predictable in that he would always take the action that had the best result for himself.

“If you did die, nothing I could say would stop Scott from killing me. Derek would most likely assist him. So it’s in neither one of our best interest for you to be captured, and in order to avoid that you will listen to what I say when we’re out.”

“Yeah, yeah. Jesus, if you’re like this all the time no wonder Derek throws you into walls…”

“I’ve known Derek since he was born, and he _never_ got over the fact that I was the only one in our family that refused to coddle him.”

Peter then left through Stiles’ window, before the boy could make another remark.

Not that Stiles would. This was the first time he had even heard Peter talk about life before the fire. He imagined Peter as the uncle that refused to spoil the only son of the Hale alpha…but those two were pretty close in age, so Peter probably would’ve been the only one that treated Derek as an equal. It was pretty disconcerting to think of Peter as someone who actually _cared._ Of course, the whole revenge thing proved that he did care about his pack but thinking about Peter as someone who loved his family…it was hard to reconcile that image with the crazed Alpha who had killed in his own niece for power.

These thoughts swirled in Stiles’ mind before he was dragged down into a restless sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's mentions in this chapter of a dead body and suicide, nothing graphic though.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Days like these, Stiles knows that no one can help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so first things first, I am so so so so sorry that it's taken almost a year to update this. I've had so much going on IRL, especially with starting my third year at uni that I genuinely haven't had the time or energy for writing. But I'm back now, and am planning on updating on a fortnightly basis :)
> 
> This chapter isn't much on actual plot, but its more of a look at Stiles' character because I've been away from this fic for so long and I need to get back into the right headspace
> 
> Also *warning*, a character in this chapter experiences mild depression but nothing too graphic just general apathy.
> 
> So enjoy, and don't forget that comments are love xxx

The second Stiles had woken up he knew it was going to be one of those days. He’d showered. He’d gotten dressed. He ate some breakfast and made small talk with his dad (it was one of those increasingly rare mornings where the Sheriff hadn’t left for work yet) before driving to school. Talk to Scott. Another person dead thanks to the succubi. Class. Walk through the corridors. Class. Harris makes some snide remark about his homework…On and on and on. 

Days like this, it’s like Stiles’ mind is enclosed in fog. People look at him, talk to him and he knows that. But it’s like looking at one of those old analogue TVs they had when he was younger, the one’s where if the antenna isn’t just in the right place you still get a signal but its filled with static. Sure, he could try and focus on the image, but what’s the point? The image won’t get better on willpower alone. 

So he rolls with it; watches his shows, makes dinner, beats Isaac in some online RPG. And he isn’t unhappy, despite what he might look like. He’s content because on days like this he’d rather be numb than feel anything. It’s not healthy, or romantic, or whatever crappy YA books and movies try to make it out to be like. It’s the loneliest place. But it’s also the safest. 

Days like this might be bad, but they’re nothing compared to the nights. 

*****************************************

 

“Do you want me to call Scott?”

Stiles slowly realises that he’s half lying-half sitting on the floor, leaning against his bed. He turns his head towards the window; the last time he looked the sky had been that bright blue that you could only find in California. Now it was pitch black, no stars winking and only a sliver of moon. He turns his head towards his desk, and there’s Peter lounging on his desk chair like he belongs there.

“No.”

It takes Stiles a while to open his mouth and ask the question that’s actually on his mind.

“Why are you here?”

“You texted me.”

Huh. Stiles does tend to lose track of time when he gets like this. But he’s never texted anyone before. Besides, why did Peter show up? Usually, whenever he texts the wolf he has to wait a few hours for a reply. Even when he mentions that it’s urgent. Especially when he mentions that it’s urgent. And unless they’re going on one of their ‘dates’, Peter only turns up when he feels like it. Usually strolling in with food or coffee from one of the overpriced eateries that are still open in Beacon Hills. Before he can ask Peter what exactly he texted him, the older man speaks.

“It just says ‘I’. I presumed it was a mistake, and was willing to ignore it but you didn’t answer any of my calls…”  
Peter’s eyes narrow and his back straightens, no doubt ready to retaliate to any quip Stiles can make about the wolf being the clingy one in their ‘relationship’. But Stiles doesn’t say anything, he just tips his head back and closes his eyes. He hears the rustling of clothing, no doubt Peter getting ready to flee now that he now’s Stiles isn’t dying.

“Come on, up you get”, Peter states. Stiles can feel Peter’s body heat, indicating that the older man is now standing next to him.

“No thanks. My parents warned me about stranger danger.”

Stiles doesn’t quite know how it happens but he’s walking on main street at 2 am with the zombie wolf. He’s wearing one of his warmer jackets, and somehow Peter’s managed to find a pair of gloves for him. Still, he can feel the biting wind against his face, but it’s not bad. It’s actually the opposite. Bracing.

They enter one of the few cafes’ that are open at this time of night. Peter orders some Panini thing for himself and a huge bowl of nacho’s- not your typical slathered in cheap cheese and salsa nachos. No, these are premium nachos with 3 types of cheese (which he thinks are French), that Japanese mushroom that’s name begins with ‘shitz’, and smoked chicken. It’s only when Stiles is wiping the crumbs at the bottom of the bowl that he realises he hadn’t eaten all day. 

What surprises him even more is the fact that Peter doesn’t talk to him. At all. He just sits there eating his food, makes a few comments about the choice of clothing made by the other patrons of the shop but he doesn’t wait for Stiles to reply. He doesn’t expect Stiles to reply. It’s nice. More than nice, it’ fucking refreshing. As much as he loves Scott, he would never contact him when he gets like this because Scott would try so hard to get him to talk, so that he can understand what’s going on in Stiles’ mind. The trouble is Stiles doesn’t want someone to understand when even he doesn’t fully know why he gets like this sometimes; he just wants someone to accept him. To accept the fact that on days like these, he physically cannot leave home once he gets back from school unless someone physically moves him, that even though he doesn’t want to talk it doesn’t mean he doesn’t want company. He just wants someone to be with him, without expecting him to interact with them. It’s unfair, he knows its not fair to that person which is why he’s never asked anyone. 

But somehow Peter’s that person, and all Stiles had to do was text him one letter from the alphabet.

*************************************  
When he wakes up the next morning, he’s not exactly 100% himself again but he’s better. He actually looks forward to school, and seeing his friends (and Aiden and Isaac).

He feels even better when he recognises the handwriting on the post-it note stuck on the mirror of his medicine cabinet.

‘For any similar emergencies, call ********. It’s my private line’

Stiles can’t help snorting, of course Peter has a different cell number which he hasn’t given to any of the Pack.


End file.
